Metamorphosis
by Jessamyn1
Summary: Natalia Shycock was getting on with life just fine. So what if her best friends were either dead, hated her or in Azkaban? She could handle it just fine. Intil she got that letter to come back. Then it was a lot harder.
1. Prologue

Metamorphosis: 

_~* When a person or thing changes into a completely different one *~_**__**

Prologue

In a cold, dimly lit doorway a young woman stood. She stood defiantly, as defiantly as her weak body could withstand. Her normal curvy figure was reduced to a thin layer of fat and bones. Her ashen complexion sallowed and sagging. Her thick brown hair greasy and limp, she was the living dead. The only things alive were

her eyes. Living sapphires, bluebell flames caught in the iris of her eye. They could stare down a wall any day.

She was awaiting her trial.

For days, maybe months she had been sitting and starving in that hellhole of that prison. Dementors were constantly at her cell feeding on her distraught emotions and powers. Yet they could not rob her of all her powers and they knew it. Her grief and situation had turned her numb. She felt as if she was immune to any emotion, but then again she hadn't had her trial yet.

She heard Bagman ooze his way through a close call, she heard Crouch betray his son and she heard the black hooded woman pledge her utter, undieing faith to the dark lord.

" The dark lord will rise again, Crouch! Throw us into Azkaban, we will wait! He will come for us; he will reward us beyond any of his other supporters! We alone were faithful" " We alone tried to find him!" taunted the black hooded woman.

Within earshot, she began to weep, all her represses emotions coming out. This was the final straw.

The black hooded woman surged out of the court, dementors on either side. She paused to look at the woman with the sapphire eyes. " Good bye Blanche," whispered the blue-eyed woman. " My name is not Blanche," the other hissed, though for all her brave faith to the dark lord, she could not meet the other's eyes.

" No, you are quite the opposite of that now," the other mused, her eyes filled with sadness and wishes of better times. Before anyone could retort to that she was given a huge thrust forward, and stumbled even for her queen like stance. The dementors hurried the blue-eyed woman to enter the courtroom, but they didn't touch her.

She entered the courtroom; a cold sea of faces greeted her, this wasn't going to be easy. She glanced, scanning the crowd for a familiar face; she saw many, yet she knew she was not familiar to many. Her eyes stopped at a would be handsome man, despite being the perfect picture of ill health, he would not look at her. She knew what he thought, like many others did, the bitch of the betrayer. She saw an old, white haired man, he held her gaze, yet he couldn't for long. For once the great Albus Dumbledore was stumped, he didn't know what to think. And then she withheld him in her gaze. A person of whose opinion was very important to her. Severus Snape looked her straight in the eye and bowed his head. Faith, utter faith was in his eyes. With renewed confidence she smoothed her tangled web of hair and straightened her knee length Jersey dress and cardigan. It was time to be judged.

" I call Ms Natalia Shycock to take the stand, " roared Crouch, with a lining of hatred in his tone. "On the grounds that she was a Sirius Black's ally in the betrayal of the Potters and for jumping to his defense from several hit wizards. What plead you?" He spat. Gathering all her courage and finding her voice, she began. 

" I, Natalia Shycock am innocent. I will not to plead to be something I am already. There is no evidence whatsoever that I betrayed the Potters, I would never, and I loved them far too much. The exact same goes for Sirius, he would never . . . . .."

"Do you acknowledge that Black was the Potter's secret keeper?" interrupted Crouch viciously.

" To my knowledge, that is the truth, but under no circumstances, would he betray them,"

"Clearly you do not know your bastard of a fiancé as well as you think," smirked Crouch.

She thought her anger and hatred had been stretched to their limits, yet they were renewed in an instant.

" Don't you ever speak about him that way!" she roared furiously in response, about to lunge on top of him, forgetting all magic and restrictions. She stopped immediately when she saw herself at many a wands' point. She tried to collect her thoughts and prepare her speech. " Sirius Black was not a saint, yet he was not a Judas either. He loved the Potters with all his heart and he would never betray them. That is why I leap to his defense without questioning his honor, I know him to well, I love him so much to question it," She paused, realizing that admitting how much you love a supposed betrayer and murderer was going to cost her heavily. Her eyes focused on certain people in the crowd, all were spellbound by her, yet horror and disgust were apparent on their faces. She winced, it hurt. " Blind faith some may call it, but without faith and hope what are we? So I hope you have the faith in me to see that I am innocent. And the faith in Sirius to see that in him, at least give him a trial," She snarled the last part, glowering irately at Crouch.  He almost spat back as if she were lower than any house-elf that walked the earth.

" Jury," he commanded, "What say you on this matter?"  They discussed in hushed voices for a few moments. Then a wizened wizard stood up and in a feeble voice began " There is no evidence of her betrayal to the Potters, except the obvious relationship between her and Black. She came to his defense against several hit wizards, betraying her colleagues, though not injuring them exactly; we conclude that does suggest dark arts activity and betrayal of the Ministry of Magic. While this is merely suggested not proven, we cannot put her in Azkaban, but suggest exile of a form."

"What form?" questioned Crouch.

" Exile from The Magical world, Britain and never be able to perform magic for . . . . . . ."   

"Please don't say forever, " she begged silently.   

"  For a period of fourteen years,"

" That is it then, that is sentence, Shycock," roared Crouch, banging his hammer for finality. Anger welled up inside of her at this. 

"You think you are doing justice? You son of a…. You are destroying it!" She screamed.  Then she was whisked away by dementors, never to see the man she hated so again, and knocked out cold.

*  *  *  *  *   *  *  *   *   *  *  *   *

Hours later (she presumed) she found herself and her meager belongings outside the cold fortress on a bench, beside a concerned, yet smirking Severus Snape. "Finally up?" he said. " I would like to see how long you'd be out for if you were smashed on the head by a dementor,' she grumbled. " I wouldn't," he told her. Now, it was her turn to smirk. On a more serious note he added, "How are you Natty?" She sighed, realizing how awful she really was, it was good to hear him call her that though. " Awful, my head hurts and my whole life has been ruined," she responded, keeping the bitterness in her voice to a bare minimum. "Four of my friends are dead, one is in Azkaban, one hates my living guts and the man I love is in Azkaban on false accusations. The whole world hates me, that's how I feel."

" I'm sorry,' he said

'Thank you," she replied.

" I believe you," he said 

" I know, ' she replied

"Yet, why do you defend him? He did it you know. Why do you defend him?"

"Severus," she reprimanded severely "We've had this conversation before,'

Severus Snape's eyes turned cold at this memory, yes this was a conversation, a discussion, a disagreement, an argument or a full out fight they had had many times before.

"I love him Severus, I know him Severus, he would never, could never do that,"

"I never thought, that you of all people would let love blind you like this, remember what he did to me Natalia?" He retorted, scratching out, old deep wounds.

She winced at her full name, but her heart turned cold. " I've told you Severus, never bring that up with me again, and how would you know if love is blinding, since you've never loved someone that isn't dead," she spat at him wrathfully. As she said this her throat filled with dread and guilt at her statement,

"How dare you!' he hissed in a low, dangerous voice." How dare you speak about her like that,'

'How dare I? How dare you speak about my fiancé like that!  As if he was a servant of Vodemort, which he is not! Only you would know what that is like", she screamed. "At least I was open about it and turned it into good! I never betrayed Dumbledore, which is something you and your bastard fiancé did!"

He immediately regretted this. Her eyes rounded in wrath and disgust. "Don't you ever say that Snake!' she hissed, reverting to his childhood nickname, given by Sirius. He looked at her, that cold, distant look filled with anger, disgust and hate. He had never looked at her like that. She returned it and started to walk away.

Saying: " Goodbye Severus Snake,"

He didn't reply.

As she sauntered out of the fortress she stopped when she saw Albus Dumbledore. 

Albus Dumbledore, looked at this young woman, she had surprised him to say the least. She had turned out the furtherest from what he had expected, even when she had first tried on that sorting hat. She was one never expected to go to the dark side, yet he was sure she had. Maybe she deserved this banishment, maybe they all needed it. This was a case where he didn't know who to trust, he trusted Severus, yet he just couldn't trust her. He forced himself to meet those strange, ex raying, forbidding eyes.

She winced when she soul searched his eyes, she saw confusion and she expected that, yet she also saw loathing that marred her soul. To be hated by Albus Dumbledore was not a good thing. 

" I know what you will to ask,' he said to her concisely, "and the answer is no."

" Who is he going to live with then?" her voice reaching a pleading note

"That does not concern you," Dumbledore spoke harshly; he had never talked to her like that.

Tears began to well up in her eyes; her world was slowly coming to an end.

"Never try to find out where he is and visit him, ever. Do you understand me?" He spoke with hate as an undertone to his voice. This angered her, how can he not believe her?

Gathering all her emotions she spat," No, I won't Sir; he won't be dirtied with my pitiful excuse at a life. Maybe you will let the Dursleys do that?"

He didn't flinch, but his eyes showed otherwise.

"Promise?" he stated steadfastly. 

"Promise, professor," She spat sarcastically and irately.

And with that she left, the wizard world had had enough of her and she of it.

For now.

  



	2. A Turn to Tragedy

**1.**

Far away in a strange country, in a strange land, in a strange province, in a strange town, there lived a girl. Far away from the wizarding world that you know, was she, in the muggle world, who would change many lives, of whom you do know, forever.

The country was South Africa, the province was Natal and the town was Kloof, Durban. There, lived a girl called Nat. At the tip of Africa, in a country torn apart by turmoil and racial prejudice, there she was.

On the 21st of May 1961, Annette Shycock gave birth to twins. First, Elisabeth Anne Shycock, then ten agonizing minutes later she bore another, whom was named Natalia May. The last birth was especially long and hard, on the already frail woman's fragile body. She died, soon after the birth of Natalia.

Leaving, two barely an hour old twin girls, a distraught man and a two year old son, with nothing in the world, but each other.

From then on Natalia was just Nat, nothing more or less.

She and her twin were extremely close, identical at first glance, but demanded a closer look. Nat had dark, almost black hair, and eyes, so blue, people wanted to look at them, but were disturbed by their intensity. Elisabeth was like her father, lighter brown hair and aquamarine eyes. Nat was cursed (in her opinion anyhow) to look like her mother.

It was a known fact; Elisabeth did the talking enough for both if them. She did the listening. Elisabeth was better at basically everything that Nat; she was daddy's little girl. Nat was the follower and the blamed on the topic of her mother's death. Only herself and her father really did this though. Their brother, Tristan adored her though and made up for any hurt she might suffer from her father's dismissal. She endured the first years of her life with a very low self-confidence. Though there was one thing that gave her a shred of it, She remembered the moment exactly.

They were seven. It was time for their first tennis lesson. Elisabeth took her first forehand, a strong and confident stroke. The tennis coach watched the other twin, a mere shadow of her sister. How would she fair? Nat gripped the tennis racket, she was so nervous! She almost closed her eyes and just whacked. Wow! Her stroke was powerful and exact. From then on it was one of the only things that could make her forget something awful. Elisabeth had at first been astonished at it, yet she accepted it. Though, she refused to play the sport.

Then on Christmas Eve 1971 everything changed.

Nat sighed heavily, here they went again. Why did Elisabeth always get the front seat? It was so unfair! She got into the back of the car next to Tristan and did up her seat belt. Though he loved her very much, he was still a twelve-year-old boy and was prone to teasing his sisters. "Sulking Natty!" he joked as he sat himself beside her and buckled up. Her already swelling temper was fused by this and was set off. "Don't call me that you domkop!" she retaliated.

"Natty! Watch your language," Elisabeth reprimanded as she sidled into the desired front seat, dismissing her seatbelt in order to reprimand her twin.

"Yes, Lissie dear," she retorted in her most sarcastic voice. 

"Nat, don't be sarcastic with your sister,' her father reprimanded severely as he slid into the driver's seat and buckled up.

"Why not?"

Nobody answered her.

All continued in this vain in till Nat got sick of it. Addressing her father she said: "Why am I always blamed for everything? Why do you always take the other side? Why do always praise her and not me? Why do love her more than me?" he father's mouth gapped at her like a Jellyfish and Elisabeth looked violated. Tristan kept wisely quiet. "Don't say such rubbish Natty!' Her sister said.

" Don't speak to me like that Miss perfect," She screamed. "I HATE you!"

"No you don't," her sister said, though tears of hurt welled up in her eyes.

"Yes I do. I…" But she never got to finish her sentence, because at that moment something ran across the road, the car in front swerved back to avoid it and they rammed into it. Her father was thrown against the steering wheel; the two in the back safely tucked into seatbelts were chucked into the back of the front seats. Yet, the twin in the front, whose seatbelt was absent want flying through the windshield, never to know a thing again.

Nat groggily opened her eyes; she could taste blood on her tongue. All these people were swarming around her, a siren blaring in the distance. 

"How do feel dear?" a fat paramedic asked her. " Where's my sister? Where's my twin?" she fretted. "Well dear," the paramedic stalled. "She…."

But she was up and away," No dear," she wailed. But, it was two late, lying there on a stretcher was her finally beaten twin, as dead as a doornail.

Elisabeth was rushed to the hospital, yet there was nothing they could do for her, she was dead.

When she had first seeing Elisabeth just lying there, her body had gone into a state of shock, it didn't know what to do with itself.

Now, at home, after the accident, it did. It cried. Her entire being racked with sobs as she replayed her last words to Elisabeth. She didn't have Christmas, for a week she ate nothing, did nothing, just stayed in her room and cried nobody could even try to comfort her.

The funeral was horrible, she was made to talk about her twin, to honor her memory, and all she did was cry instead. All she wanted to do was tell people to "footsak" when they tried to offer her sympathy. They didn't how she felt; none of them had lost Elisabeth as a twin.

At school she declined to do anything, she refused to play tennis, talk to her friends or go out. She refused to acknowledge her Birthday. She started to wonder how she could go on without the one person who had meant the world to her, even though she hated her at times. She still loved her more than any other being.

Little did she know the answer was being delivered to her window by an owl, on a piece of parchment at that very instant.


	3. A Way to Wisdom

**2.**

On the 31st July 1972, Nat Shycock was in bed. It was 5 o'clock in the morning and most people in Alexandra Drive were fast a sleep, except those training for the Comrades of course, a far too long South African marathon (In her point of view anyway). Why people like Mrs. Blake, who couldn't walk three Kilometers wanted to attempt to run ninety was far out of her understanding. Yet, nobody in her house was that stupid and were all sound asleep. She felt a cold winter breeze coming through her window and realized it wasn't shut at all. As, she reached to close it something feathery smashed into her and both were pelted onto the bed.

Nat would dearly liked to have screamed; yet that wish was made impossible by the fact that her mouth was crammed with feathers. With a swift motion of her hand she grabbed the creature by the neck (what she presumed was the neck) and disengaged it from her mouth. She forced open her eyelids, and there face to face with her was an…owl! To be more precise a barn owl that was glowering (was that possible?) at her. On further examination it even had a letter tied to its foot. Without even thinking she dropped the owl as fast as she could in terror and screamed "Tristan!" and bolted for the door.

Her brother was stunted awake by her scream. He was used to comforting her from nightmares. Thinking she had had another he scrambled awake and nearly collided with her, as both bolted to each other's rooms. " Oh my word!" she was panting "There, there was a…."

"What Nat?" he questioned in a concerned voice.

"There's a owl in my room! And it has a letter!"

Concern on his face was quickly wiped away to be replaced by annoyance. "Look Nat, it's good you want to start playing jokes and all, but does it have to be this early in the morning?'

"I'm not joking Tristan!" she said, annoyed. "It's the truth!"

"A truth you got straight out of Enid Blyton," he said, starting to grin as she dragged him along and into her bedroom. Nat glowered at him and gave him a firm push into her room. "There!" she bragged triumphantly.

"Where?" came a smug question from him.

"There you doof…" she broke off. There was no owl to be seen. Where did it go? The only thing that seemed to be in its place was a… 

"Letter?" Exclaimed Tristan. "What kind of joke is this Nat?" Nat grabbed the letter and ripped open the envelope. It was made of a thick type of yellowy paper.

"Dear Ms. N. Shycock it is a pleasure to inform you that you have been excepted into Hogwarts School of witchcraft and wizardry. Enclosed you will find a list of…"

 She broke off to glower at Tristan who was doing a rather good impression of a snort straight from this school's name. "Nat, I know I never should have given you those Worst Witch books. What was the name of that school? Ms. Cackle's academy or such. Even that is better than naming it after the pussy sores on the back of a pig!" he finally let out.

 " I didn't name it TRISTAN!" she bellowed." For the last time!"

"Nat!" bellowed a petrified voice from the passage. "I think you ought to come here," 

She and Tristan both stalked warily to the entrance of her room and peered around the bend to the passage. There was her father, and a rather short, middle-aged man with orange hair, still freckles at his age and the worst fashion sense Nat had ever seen. Him and a rather innocent looking garden twig, at which was pointed at her father's head appeared to be the reason why he was terrified out of his wits.  Tristan, taking the role of alpha male, now that the real one was seemingly captured told the man in a would be threatening voice (it was breaking and tended to go squeaky at the most crucial moments) "Leave my father alone. What do you want?" The man eyed Tristan with a twinkle in his eye. " I have not come to harm you family Laddie, just simply to educate. I want your sister, to educate her in the field of magic." Nat was beginning to piece this all together and thought she better speak before Tristan did anything she might regret.

 "You sent the letter! You're from Pigwarts, aren't you?" she cried, happy to be able to prove it existed. 

"Hogwarts Lass, but yes I am associated with them." 

"This is all hogwash!" roared her father (missing the pun entirely), "There is no such thing as magic, and you are just some dirt crook trying to rob innocent citizens of Kloof by making up some hogwash story!" The queer man surveyed him calmly and went on to say:

" Sorry, forgot my manners there, I'm Bilius Weasley head of MPRD and I have to take you daughter to buy her requirements for the start of her magical…" He stopped as the male members of her household went into outrage. "No madman like you will be taking my daughter anywhere! You hear me?" 

" What on earth is the MPRI and what magical education?" That was Tristan; clearly his curiosity had got the better of him. Bilius Weasley was quite taken a back by all this stepped back and readied his twig, Nat realized this was some form of weapon or another and before anyone got hurt stepped in to destroy the violence.

 " Zip it! Now! I want to hear Mr. Weasley out." At her outburst the overexcited males went into shock, it was the most statement of feeling they had got from her in a long while.

"Are, there's a sensible lass now," chucked Mr. Weasley. Though, Nat wasn't going to let him off that easily.

 "Can you really do real magic?' she interrogated skeptically. Tristan's eyes brightened at this, as her father's looked alarmed.

 "Of course lassie," replied Mr. Weasley as if this was the most obvious thing in the world. "Alright then, what would you like to see?" Nat eyed both her sibling and father; she glanced at Tristan's normal brown hair and smirked. "Turn his hair blue," she stated, pointing at the most unfortunate guinea pig's head. Tristan glared at the twig fearfully and turned it on Nat. With the simple wave of the twig and the utter of a few words Tristan's hair soon became a hideous shade of blue. Nat gasped in surprise, this was no fake trick. Her father looked amazed and kept yanking at it to confirm it was real; it now resembled a badly painted Easter egg. Tristan was anguished and glared scathingly at Mr. Weasley and Nat as he examined himself in the hallway mirror. Nat smirked, he really was quite vain. "I'll believe you,' she told Mr. Weasley smugly " If you change back,"

 " Sure thing," he waved his twig and the problem was solved. "So now that you believe you are a witch Natalia I believe you will accompany me…" He started, but was quickly interrupted by a highly confused Nat. " Explain exactly what you are talking about," Mr. Weasley allowed himself a smile. 

"Clearly you have not read much of your letter," Noticing her guilty expression he decided he had hit the nail on the head and went on," Well Lassie, there are two types of humans in this world, magical and non – magical, magical witches and wizards and non – magical muggles."  He let them digest this before going on, " You and I lass are magical and your brother and father here are non –magical." He watched them. Nat would have had a hard time believing this had she not seen the proof. "We're called Muggles!" Tristan exclaimed sounding scandalized.

 "How come if they're "Muggles" then I'm a witch?" she questioned. Mr. Weasley grinned. 

"Don't miss a trick eh? Do you lass?" He sighed." Occasionally even in a long line of muggles a child will be born with the gift of magic. Which is why you are a very special wee witch," Nat was startled by this bit of information, her special?

 " Why are you a secret? Why don't muggles know about magic?" she said as it came to her.

" Ever heard of witch hunts lassie?" he paled as he spoke, Nat nodded understanding the need for secrecy.

While this was taking place Nat's father was digesting all of this, though not easily. He had seen proof yet, how could it be possible? And strangely it very easily could.  "Where is this "Pigwarts"?"  He asked. " You sound awfully like a brit,"  

" That's because I am," Mr. Weasley informed him amused. " **Hogwarts **is in Scotland," The entire family goggled at him. 

" You wants me to go to school with a load of poms?"  Nat implored, though as she said this, she realized this was exactly what she needed, to get away where nobody knew her, to have a fresh start, and most of all to get away from her father. Mr. Weasley seemed to know what she was on about. "She could go to school in Africa, there is a very good one in Egypt I believe, yet it is to our belief that her magical ability would be greatly enhanced at Hogwarts, one of the best magical schools in the world." All glanced at her, finally something in her life was her decision, under her control. 

'I want to go to this school, this Hogwarts,' she stated firmly.

She glanced timidly at the people around her to see their reactions to this new development in her life. Mr. Weasley could not have looked more pleased, yet that was the easy one. She cast her eyes to that of her relations. Tristan looked vaguely upset, yet he had left her to go to boarding school, why shouldn't she? Her father was shocked, yet mixes up in this was, relief? Yes it was there and it hurt her to see it.  "Go Nat," said her father," It would be good for you to, to get away from everything. Wouldn't it?" She slowly bobbed in response. Good for you too, she thought, now you won't have to look at me as a reminder of her. 

"Now," stated Mr. Weasley, "We have to get her school supplies, and to help me with that…" All were quiet as suddenly a person materialised snap bang in the middle of their passage. "Mrs. Blake!" roared her farther, "What are you doing here?

Nat stared at Mrs. Blake, flabbergasted. She was a witch? She who had babysat them for years, was a witch? Mrs. Blake's plump cheeks had gone red with pleasure at the shock of the Shycocks. " Don't looked so shocked Orlando," she informed Nat's father, "It's quite possible, you know," 

She turned to smile at Nat. " Do you truly believe now?"

Nat smiled shyly. "I truly do,"

"So that's how you do the comrades every year," Exclaimed Tristan victoriously, finally cottoning on. 

Mrs. Blake smiled at him abashedly, "Ja you are right, all it is simply a matter of disappearing at the beginning and appearing at the end, if you get my meaning,"

She winked at Tristan as they all burst our laughing. Mr. Weasley finished chuckling and got back to business. "Now Natalia if you would dare accompany Verity Blake and I to the fire to get your school supplies." The Shycocks glanced at him warily.

"My school supplies are in the fire?" Nat questioned dubiously.

Mr. Weasley and Mrs. Blake laughed. "No, you put a powder called floo powder in the fire, say where you want to go and then step into the fire and voila there you are!" 

Nat eyed him warily, "You go first," 

He chuckled merrily. "Cheers," he said to Mr. Shycock and Tristan. "Muggles can't use the floo network and our destination is in Johannesburg so I'm afraid you will not be able to accompany us"

"We'll live," declared her father, yet the look on Tristan's face clearly didn't suggest this.

"Money," said Nat, "Won't I need some?"  She looked to Mr. Weasley for confirmation. 

He nodded. "Fifty Rand aught to do it," Her father nodded, found his wallet and handed the money to Nat. With that Mr. Weasley threw some powder in the fire, turning it green, he said "Floo Foyer," and with a wave of his hand was gone.

"Now take some powder and throw it in the fire," instructed Mrs. Blake. She did so and with a POOF it went green. "Now say the place we want to go to, Floo Foyer."

"Floo Foyer," she chanted (feeling very stupid) to the fire.

"Now step into it," Mrs. Blake continued. If she hadn't seen Mr. Weasley do that exact thing, she never would have done it (Being burnt alive was not on the top of her wish list), but she had and with a deep breath and a wave to her family she stepped into the fire.

"I hope she comes back alive," her father commented wryly.

Nat was sure her stomach was going to fall out as she whirled around. Yet, with a cough and a splutter a hard thump she found her self in a large foyer she turned to look behind her and saw a long row of fireplaces, all spitting various witches and wizards out of them. A kind hand pulled her up. "Alright there lassie?" Mr. Weasley questioned kindly. "I'm fine," she assured him.

"There you are!" cried the voice of Mrs. Blake as she hurried over to them from another fireplace.

"This is a place called the Floo Foyer," explained Mr. Weasley. "We can come here from our homes and decide exactly where we want to go."

Mrs. Blake nodded in agreement, "We are looking for a place called Regweg," Easily enough they joined a queue for a fireplace with "Regweg" written on top. Nat prepared herself for a second time with floo powder, discovering that second time was the charm. 

And then she was at Regweg. She gasped it was definitely different from anything she had ever seen. There was a tarred road in the centre with various shops and restaurants on either side. There were building painted in bright ethnic patterns, there were high domes, wagons and stone buildings all rolled into one. She could see Zulu inyangas going to an apothecary, Indians setting out spicy goods, Afrikaners talking loudly about some animal or another, "Ag, nee man! Daar is 'n Nundu by my plaas weer!" and English people milling around the shops. It was a rainbow nation. She started to smile; magical people were rising higher in her esteem by the minute. Mrs. Blake saw her smile. She smiled at Nat, "No, wizards do not judge people by race or the colour of their skin, not like that awful Muggle government of ours," Nat grinned. "Yet, they do have other ways." She paused and looked at Mr. Weasley. He sighed. "Nat you are going to have to learn to deal with prejudice from certain people," Nat glanced at him in bewilderment. "Why?" They both glanced at each other uneasily. "Wizards, some wizards judge others on the purity of their blood, how long their line of wizards and witches are in their family. And families with muggle blood in them are by a select few considered lower than them."

Nat gave him a shocked look, "So basically if I come straight from a line of muggles I'm considered the lowest of the low." She said bitterly. They both exchanged worried looks. "Only a few do, the rest of us know that it makes no difference whatsoever, we just wanted you to know." Nat nodded her head shakily. "Thank you," she whispered. They looked at her, relieved. Why did she have an idea that this very fact would play a large part in her life?

First they went to Imaligeld Bank to exchange her money into the wizarding currency of Galleons, Sickles and Knuts. And then they shopped. They brought cloaks, hats, robes, potion ingredients, cauldrons, spell books and all other sorts. Nat was extremely excited to get her "twig" or wand as Mr. Weasley had corrected her. Hers was ebony and dragon heartstring. "I presume you would be wanting an owl to owl your family?" Mrs. Blake inquired as they were all sitting on a bench, exhausted licking ice creams. "Oh, to send them al letter you mean? Don't wizards have telephones?"

 "No we don't lass, you will be wanting an owl," Mr. Weasley assured her. So with that they went into a shop called Inyoni Avery where you could seem to buy every owl imaginable. Nat eventually found one; it was tiny and very cute. "That would be a pearl spotted owl," the shopkeeper informed her. 

"To small for international deliveries?" Mr. Weasley asked. 

The shopkeeper gaped at him. " Definitely," Nat sighed, she really wanted that owl. 

"What owl could go the distance of, say Scotland and South Africa?" The shopkeeper scratched his chin, 

"You'd be needing that one," 

He pointed to a large cage, where the most beautiful owl Nat had seen yet was perched. "That's a Pel's fishing owl," the shopkeeper informed them. Nat grinned.

"I'll take it," When she had paid for it she noticed that she had the exact amount left of what the smaller owl cost. She brought it.

As they walked out Mrs. Blake asked her "What on earth are you going to do with **two **owls Nat?".

"One to deliver letters to my family and the other for local deliveries and to be a pet," Nat said.

Mrs. Blake chuckled,  "All right then,"

That was over but Nat still had to wait the whole of August before she could go to her school. She was very apprehensive. Eventually it came time to go. Her trunk was packed. She said good-bye to her family. Mrs. Blake saw her to Floo Foyer and Mr. Weasley took her from a place called Diagon Alley to Kingscross Station. 

They walked onto platform 9. "Ready Natalia?" Mr. Weasley asked, a secret smile on his face. Nat stared at him. "It's Nat," she corrected. "But yes I am," 

"Great, now I want you to run through that wall and…" 

"You want me to run through a wall?" Nat exclaimed, appalled causing several innocent by passers to turn and stare. "I've been concussed once Mr. Weasley and I have no wish to be again,' She stated firmly.

"It's magical," He assured her, "It allows only magical folk to slide through to platform 9¾."

She gave him such a dubious look. He sighed, "Watch me. Best to do it at a run." He took a quick glance around, casually lent against the barrier, and poof he was gone. Nat sighed, it was all right for him, he knew he was magic. How was she so sure? She took a deep breath, it was time to start making her own mistakes, in the past Lissie had made them for the both of them, yet now she was gone, she had to survive on her own now.

With another deep breath she took a run and closed her eyes and…there she was. A vivid scarlet train was in front of her, it looked rather like a long tomato in her opinion and there were so many people, they made her scared. "There you are," called a familiar voice, "Not concussed I see" She smiled wryly at Mr. Weasley. 

"It was a close one though," he laughed. " Now lets get you stuff on the train, the Hogwarts express." Her owls hooted in a friendly sort of way to him, he smiled down at them, "What did you call them anyway?"  

"Oh," Nat said, " I called the big one Nike and the smaller one Tee Tee," He smiled and started to help her get her things to the train. Nat caught snatches of conversation as they went through the crowd. She focused her attention particularly on a black haired family of four.

"My little puppy's going away!" the mother was yelping holding her son's head in her hands. "I'll be back at Christmas mum," the boy, about her age reminded her, rather forcefully trying to get out of her grip. "That's three whole months!" she wailed. "You have Reenie," he indicated desperately at the girl next to him. 

"And next year she'll be gone to!" she blubbered. "Well for now you still have your little ocean, Camarine. And when she's gone you'll have a huge ocean of tears in compensation," He stopped when he saw his family's glares. "That's not funny dear," His mother informed him miserably. His father, an important, impatient looking man rolled his eyes. "Come Sonty," he persisted. "One more hug," declared his wife dejectedly. Nat watched as she embraced him, it was more like trying to push the air out of him than a hug. "Bye Mum," he said with relief, trying to push her off. His father rolled his eyes once again and pulled her robes, "Come Sonatina, It's getting late," She finally let go as her son started to get his breath back. "Bye son," called his father, "Enjoy yourself and owl us soon," "Will do," the boy responded, clearly relieved one of his parents was vaguely normal. "Bye Reenie," he called. "Good Riddance," she responded, but she was smiling. "Same to you," He retorted, but the slight twitch at the corner of his mouth suggested otherwise. He sighed, clearly relieved to have got rid of them. He then turned and saw Nat staring intently at him. Nat blushed and looked away, averting her eyes to the ground. 

She came to the door of the train. Mr Weasley helped her get settled. "Bye then," he said kindly, "Owl me any time at the department of Muggle Public relations,"

"The what?" 

He grinned, "Just address it to Bilius Weasley at the MPRD all right?' 

She nodded, "MPRD, got it." 

"Enjoy yourself," he told her kindly, giving her a fatherly hug. 

"I will," she said, trying to make herself believe it more than him. He left and now she was truly alone. 

She was just settling down in her seat when she heard footsteps coming down the passage past her compartment and a loud exclamation of "OY!" She turned in surprise to see the boy she had been staring at, at her compartment door. "You're the girl that was staring at me aren't you?" Blushing, she slowly nodded. 

"Are you a first year?" he questioned, coming into the compartment. She slowly nodded. With a wry smile he added, "Can you speak?" She was about to nod her head, but she caught herself, before she could make even more a fool of herself she uttered a yes in a small voice. "Well that's good to know," he told her with the same wry grin. "And who would you be?" "Nat, Nat Shycock," she said in the same quiet voice. She glanced at him questionably.

 "Me?" he said. "Me, I'm Sirius Black."


End file.
